You just stomp into my space,
And rip the smile off my face,
You are the reason every word
I say comes from a dark place.
And on this I try to reflect,
As you try to get me to deflect,
From my intended plan to break
Free of your abuse and neglect.
You got me wrecked,
And yet you want my respect,
But you should know that
What you can’t give, you don’t get.
I fantasise death,
Feels like a better place to be,
Should I leap off a building,
Or just drown in the sea.
I’m addicted to daydreaming,
That’s like my only escape,
From the life I so hate,
I just choose to dissociate.
I take comfort in movies and books,
And the food my loving abuser cooks,
Music and rap does help a lot,
Often I try to give my writing a shot.
The recurring themes in my writing,
Death and escape are all I’d be citing,
Freedom is the only word I find exciting,
And for this freedom I shall die fighting.
And fight I did until I broke free,
The one chance I got, I decided to flee,
I ran away to a place as far as can be,
And waited to begin life as the new me.
But the past is still a part of you,
It bites you, it taunts you,
Seeps through every crevice,
Merciless, it haunts you.
Nightmares, rage, and anxiety,
Migraine attacks and insecurities,
Hallucinations and complex PTSD,
Out of body experiences and BPD.
I thought I was free now,
That I had begun a new phase,
But thanks to you who raised me,
I’ll always be stuck in a dark place.